


Flames Burn Down Together

by thiscitychick (ikindaneedahero)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Play, Bath Sex, Cunnilingus, Daddy Kink, F/M, First Time, HP Daddy Fest, HP Daddy Fest 2020, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Morning Sickness, Public Humiliation (Non-Sexual), background dramione
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:08:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24292618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikindaneedahero/pseuds/thiscitychick
Summary: Abraxas made sure to show his son how a Malfoy man cares for his love. Lucius did his best to follow in his father's footsteps.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 113
Collections: HP Daddy Fest 2020





	Flames Burn Down Together

**Author's Note:**

> Started with the prompt 'Draco calls him Father because Daddy's reserved for Narcissa' and got completely off track. 16k of self-indulgent background writing for a couple who never receive the spotlight in fics. I hope you enjoy!

Though he was only seven when he caught sight of her, he already knew. Malfoy men always knew what belonged to them. The girl surely made her mother proud by not daring to make eye contact with any man present and he was bewitched from first glance. Lucius was only a boy then, and he remembered puffing his nonexistent chest out when he was the object of the girl’s shy behavior, his blue eyes not wavering from her perfect face as he softly kissed her tiny knuckles. The perfect pureblood gentleman met the perfect pureblood princess. 

The Malfoy line had only borne sons for fourteen generations and all of those men were born leaders, his father often told him. Lucius received his adolescent education in his father’s office, and he eagerly hung on every word the man said. One public outing was all that it took for Lucius to know that his father was a man of great power, wealth and renown. He knew he’d be the same one day if he listened well enough.

His future was painted in broad strokes before he’d even stepped foot in Hogwarts: the flock would follow him. Most boys who were unsure of their place and without the mental fortitude to think for themselves. That was where Lucius would step in. 

What his father didn’t adequately prepare him for was Narcissa Black, a fairy princess of a first-year who’d arrived during his second. Her dainty hands were the same as he remembered, and he wished fervently that they were held to his lips once more instead of tightly grasping tomes that hid her beautiful face from sight.

He sneakily listened in on the Black sister dramatics that took place at the Slytherin table daily, mystified by the way Narcissa’s sisters would plead for the youngest girl to lighten up, but her walls never came down. He wondered what a rich little girl could have experienced to make her so forlorn.

In true Slytherin fashion, the circling snakes didn’t need to wait long to strike. The girl was easy prey. Lucius would never forget the first time, the only time, he saw his love cornered by third-year girls. 

By the time Lucius and his minions walked by, the small blonde was already on the ground crying outside a third-floor corridor with hands covering her face. Her wand was nowhere in sight. Lucius remembered thinking it looked like a submissive position she’d been in before.

His mind didn’t settle until the girl had been escorted back to the common room, Andromeda holding her trembling body closely while Bellatrix and her betrothed, Rodolphus, stalked the snakes who’d slithered away after being caught in the act. The boy smirked as he pictured the pain they’d feel once discovered by the sixth year couple.

She was an innocent girl, he thought. Her hair was pale blonde as though Merlin himself decided she was too light, too good to even bear the characteristic Black hair that every family member had had since the beginning of time. Anyone who thought to harm her again would pay with blood.

He went to his room that night with an uneasy feeling in his stomach. She’d been taken upstairs by Andromeda before he could say anything to her. What would he have even said?

A black-haired first year stopped him the next day, his grey eyes so much like his beloved’s.

“I saw you watching Cissa. The healer promised my uncle that she’d be a boy, that he’d never seen the Blacks have only daughters. He’s never forgiven her for having the wrong parts.”

Lucius’ nostrils flared, a trait he’d inherited from his own father. He gave the boy a terse nod of acknowledgement before walking away.

He didn’t catch her alone until after lunch and made the split second decision to gently pull her into an alcove. At only thirteen, he towered over her slight figure. _Malfoys were always to be tall and strong,_ his father’s voice rang in his head.

“How are you feeling today, Narcissa?” he asked in as gentle a tone as he could muster, wishing she’d look into his eyes. Wishing she’d see his concern for her, the worried look he felt comfortable to don for her sake.

“I’m quite alright, thank you,” she said quietly. Lucius placed a gentle finger on her chin, her eyes finally looking straight into his. He preened inwardly as a delicate blush covered her high cheekbones. Perfect.

“Look at me when I speak,” he commanded gently, an uncharacteristic smile on his face. “Don’t deprive me of looking into your eyes.” 

She returned his smile, and however unsure it was, he knew she was his. She was his to protect and his to dote on. She was his to lose.

\--

Women were to be protected, his father repeated over and over during his childhood etiquette lessons, giving him looks as if to say ‘I told you so’ every time Melita Malfoy proved this point. He’d had his doubts, of course. How could the two sexes be so different? His father, as always, was right.

When she fainted in her rose garden after he broke his arm during a Quidditch game at age seven. 

When she cried into her husband's robes as Lucius boarded the Hogwarts Express for the first time. 

When Lucius had a minor spat with his father at dinner and she burst into tears at the tension between the pair. 

When her annual invitation to Yonbira Parkinson’s annual Samhain luncheon was ‘lost in the mail’ and the world came to a veritable standstill.

Women were meant to be cherished, the delicate, fragile creatures, his father repeated over and over. Abraxas made sure to show Lucius how a Malfoy man cares for his love.

Pressing a cold compress to his wife’s head after she fainted, leaving the elves to care for a seven-year-old Lucius’ broken arm while his friends uncomfortably watched on. 

Whispering softly and drying her tears with his ever-present silk kerchief as Lucius boarded the Hogwarts Express. 

The way he knelt in front of her and stroked her cheek after dismissing Lucius from the dinner table, the fourteen-year-old listening to his father’s crooning as he gracefully trudged out of the dining room. That night was the last time he hoped he would ever find himself over his father’s lap. _“You’ll be too old for a spanking when you’re old enough to stop upsetting your darling mother, Lucius.”_

Reading the _Daily Prophet’s_ front page that proclaimed ‘AUROR RAID: DARK OBJECTS FOUND AT PARKINSON PLACE’ and learning that the Samhain luncheon was regrettably canceled due to a crime scene at the Parkinson abode.

As such, Lucius was horrified to learn that Narcissa was not raised as a cherished and protected princess. The black and blue bruises that she wore like jewelry when returning from hols every year. The tear stains that dotted her holiday correspondence to him. The instinctive flinches that only Lucius didn’t merit while addressing her. They were all his problems to fix. After all, it was clear no one else was willing to intercede on her behalf. That only added fuel to his ever-simmering anger. He’d make it all better- she was to be a Malfoy wife, and Malfoy men held their women above all else.

Like her namesake, Lucius was pleased to see that Narcissa blossomed under careful attention and warmth. Lucius sought his mother’s assistance to purchase her a new wardrobe despite the sixth year remaining adamant that wearing her sister’s magically resized hand-me-downs was adequate apparel. As if the Black family was wanting for Galleons. He’d make Cygnus Black pay.

He held her close in the halls of Hogwarts, a possessive yet proper hand always on her person. The blond felt a thrill reverberate through him every time Narcissa sought his guidance, whether on interactions with professors or coursework revisions. She trusted him not to lead her astray; and he swore that he’d never let her down.

She was his to hold close and his to cherish. She was his to lose.

\-- 

His father told him about male-female relations the summer between his second and third year. His coming of age talk left him feeling the full weight of his station. 

Pureblood women were to be coveted and claimed, but left untouched until marriage. Lucius spent the summer vociferously reading books on proper decorum when it came to courting and interacting with his future wife. 

Mudbloods and half-bloods, his father told him quietly... now they were there to experiment with. Lucius was excited to get back to Hogwarts and see if they were truly as willing as his father shared. 

_“A Mudblood will open her legs for you in an instant, Lucius. They expect nothing more than a good shag. Take your pleasure and learn from the experience of touching a woman’s body. You can play rough with Mudbloods, but you must treat your wife’s body with the utmost respect. Women of our stature are fragile and easy to scare, especially in the bedroom. She’ll come to your wedding day with a sense of duty, but no knowledge of what’s to come. That’s why you must practice now, to make it easier and more pleasurable for her. But always remember that your wife is the one to carry your heir: you must treasure her with the tender love and gentility that she deserves.”_

Lucius found a sick joy in having 17 year-old Mudbloods flocking after him as a boy of only fourteen. His reputation accrued quickly, allowing him to experiment with every flavor of Hogwarts’ filth. Yet, by the time he had begun to formally court Narcissa at sixteen, none of the joys of casual sex held any meaning. He was ready to get out of Hogwarts and claim his girl formally.

He just wanted to ensure his daffodil, his precious treasure, knew how much he loved her and that he was apt to handle any and every situation… in and out of the bedroom.

Cygnus Black was a man who should have counted his lucky stars to have a daughter as beautiful and regal as his youngest. Yet, even with a blood-traitor runaway and budding lunatic who eloped with the dirt of the Sacred 28 as his two eldest daughters, he didn’t have the intelligence to ask Abraxas Malfoy for a sizable bride price. 

His only request was a small sum of galleons and that Narcissa be pulled from Hogwarts after Lucius graduated so that they could be married right away. Abraxas agreed before Lucius could protest the terms, knowing his daffodil loved school and would want to sit her N.E.W.T.S. 

His stomach sank at the tears in her eyes as she was brought into the Black’s sitting room and told she had only months left at the school she loved. Her eyes quickly sought his own, and he could only give her a tight, reassuring smile from across the room. Immediately her posture softened, and a thrill went through Lucius knowing that he could comfort her without words already. 

She was his to guide and his to marry. She was his to lose.

\--

“Are you alright, treasure?” Lucius asked calmly, pressing a chaste kiss to Narcissa’s neck as he eyed her pale, drawn face in the mirror of the Malfoy marriage suite. Hours earlier, he was rendered speechless as she walked down the aisle with a shy, buoyant smile on her face.

“Of course, Lucius. Just nervous,” she said quietly, daring a quick glance up in the mirror to meet his eyes.

“I’ll take care of you,” Lucius promised. “I’ll make you feel good.”

The man was intrigued by the way she shuddered slightly at his words, her face turning light pink. He nudged her in askance.

“You make me feel safe,” she whispered to her own reflection, still brushing her hair out.

“You’ll always be safe with me, Narcissa. You’re my greatest treasure,” he replied honestly. She let out a pleased sigh at his words, gently pushing her lithe body back into his.

His large hands were gentle as they grasped her narrow hips through her pearl white wedding dress, pulling the Acromantula silk taut against her body. She gasped at the feeling of his hands on her waist for the first time, their interactions chaperoned and by-the-books until this moment. Her nipples noticeably hardened through the expensive fabric, drawing his eyes and a wandering hand to her small chest. He smiled to himself as he realized his wife was thin enough to have gone without a corset. He was a lucky man.

“Lucius,” she moaned softly as he stretched his hand wide to reach a thumb and a pinky out to rub both of her nipples simultaneously.

“I need to look at you, treasure,” he said huskily. 

As though he were a child and she was his precious new doll, he unbuttoned the back of her dress reverently before peeling it off her. She was left in only a pair of lace knickers, her face turning pink once more as she raised her arms to cover her chest. 

He made a tutting noise, “No, angel, you won’t hide yourself from me. Your heart, your mind, your body… all mine to love.”

“Only you,” she breathed, slowly putting her arms back at her side.

Lucius laughed darkly, flesh finally touching flesh. He was struck by how small she was compared to him, how fragile. His first instinct was to bash his head against the wall as countless conversations with his father flashed through his mind. Despite himself, he couldn’t help but think the man was right. None of the Mudbloods at Hogwarts’ bodies held a candle to his wife. He saved the best for last.

“My little love, so precious,” Lucius crooned, finally thumbing her nipples to peaks without fabric in his way.

“Feels good,” she gasped.

“You like having me play with your pretty rosebuds?” he asked as he guided her towards the bed that thirty-seven generations of Malfoys had consummated their marriage in.

He removed his robes and trousers, his long blond hair thrown uncharacteristically carelessly over his shoulder. Narcissa’s grey eyes were blown innocently wide as she watched him undress, her uncertain gaze moving to the sizable bulge in his pants.

Lucius smiled indulgently at the girl and cupped himself. “Do you know what this is, angel?”

“Your special part,” she whispered.

“That’s right, my smart girl,” he praised, feeling something dark come over him at her innocence. He’d played this game with a Mudblood Hufflepuff, but for his wife, this was no game. “It’s called a cock. Would you like to see it?”

At her tentative nod, he removed his pants. Years later, he knew he’d never forget the gasp she let out while seeing him naked —seeing a man’s body— for the first time.

Narcissa reached a hand out towards him from where she laid on the ancient bed, looking rather like a spoiled little girl waiting for their doting daddy to hand them a new toy. That thought only made Lucius harder.

He walked closer, kneeling next to her on the bed and reveling in the way her beautiful eyes widened even further with a hesitant curiosity.

“Can you say cock for me, treasure?” he asked gently, smiling slightly as she shook her head vehemently, cheeks bright red at the mere question. “What about willy? Is that a better word for such a little girl?”

“Willy,” she repeated quietly, eyes naturally flying to his face to seek approval.

“My smart girl,” Lucius praised again, pressing a kiss to her smooth blonde locks. 

He slithered a hand down her silken skin, letting a finger twist playfully in her belly button for only a moment before he reached his prize.

Unable to help himself, he let out a pleased noise at the feel of her dripping core through its lace covering.

“Oh,” she moaned, unbidden. She squirmed on the bed, the pleasure of a single finger stroking her through fabric seemingly too much for her.

“I’m going to remove your knickers so I can touch you,” Lucius narrated, knowing that part of leading his wife through this was letting her know what came next. He felt like his dick could break through a brick wall with how hard he was.

It went quickly from there, his girl opening up so beautifully for his thick fingers and soaking up his praise like a sea sponge.

Lucius kissed down her chest, smiling at the moans as he ran a tongue around her pretty pink nipples.

“Luc,” she groaned, her melodic voice sounding through the room before she squeaked. “No!”

The man removed his lips from where they were mouthing her right thigh.

“Let me do this for you darling, I promise you’ll like it.”

Narcissa turned bright red, “That’s where I… I can’t say.”

“I know, my darling. If you don’t like this, you can say so. But just trust me.”

“Okay,” she whispered, immediately letting out a loud noise of pleasure as his tongue began to lap up the wetness coating her slit.

“So good, so good.”

The man had only eaten a girl out once, the week after his sixth-year Christmas. He’d consulted his father on the propriety of the act, Abraxas telling him that only practice would make perfect. Lucius could barely stomach the act, and had done it with the half-blood Emmeline Vance. He’d Obliviated the girl after, not wanting word of what he’d done to get around. It was for Narcissa, he’d repeatedly coached himself, as he went down on another girl.

Lucius smiled as his wife’s frenzied cries grew louder before pressing a reverent kiss on her clit and sitting up.

“You’re ready, treasure. This may hurt, but I’ll help you,” Lucius said soothingly as he crawled over his wife and caged her in with his arms. He was sure to grab his wand and cast a cleansing charm on his mouth, wanting to protect his wife from any uncomfortability with tasting herself as they kissed.

Narcissa let out tiny whimpers as Lucius pushed into her, driving the man to press kisses all over her face.

He was frustrated to realize that the simple act of a woman having penetrative sex for the first time was exactly like his father had told him… painful and uninspiring. Unwilling to let his wife have this drab recollection of their first time in mind for all of eternity, he reached a hand down to caress her clit. He smiled imperiously as she began to moan again.

He reverently washed her by hand after their coupling, pressing light kisses all over her perfect body as her eyes fluttered shut.

“Do you need anything else, darling? Perhaps some cocoa?” the man asked, unsure of his wife’s nightly routine.

She yawned and smiled somewhat insecurely. “I need to brush my hair and remove my cosmetic charms.”

“Don’t move, treasure,” Lucius said as he stood up. “Just direct me on what to grab and I’ll do it for you.”

“You take such good care of me,” she breathed.

“You’re my treasure, it’s my job,” he replied without a thought. Later that night, as he fell asleep with Narcissa in his arms for the first time, he swore to Merlin he’d move to the ends of the world to ensure he could do it every night.

She was his to teach and his to care for. She was his to lose.

\---

A life of leisure suited Lucius rather well, and he found having his wife home with him immensely pleasurable. He ached for his wife when he left for Death Eater meetings, wondering if the other men in the Dark Lord’s inner circle felt the same about the women they left at home.

For only a moment he found himself wishing that he could confide in his wife, whispering his mounting questions and fears about who his father truly was and who he’d been sold into serving. 

He couldn’t imagine the man who raised him, who doted on his beloved Melita, to be one who partook in such blatant cruelty and deviancy. And yet, Lucius thought, he was now resigned to the same life as his father, the man who wouldn’t make eye contact with him as he killed without stuttering.

Lucius’ spirit was buoyed by the enthusiastic thank you he received when he asked if Narcissa would like to complete her schooling at the Malfoy Manor and take her N.E.W.T exams despite leaving Hogwarts after her sixth year. 

It gave him great joy to later listen to her father scream until he was red in the face, yammering on about how women had no need for education. Lucius was undeniably smug as he reminded the man that he no longer had a legal hold on his daughter’s life. 

An elf was overjoyed to show the man out the front door, not even giving him the courtesy of the Floo. Lucius knew the moment the gates to the manor clanged shut on the man, that the girl wouldn’t see her father until his funeral. Lucius hoped that day was soon— the Black family had caused enough damage to Lucius’ treasure.

“No one’s ever cared for me like this,” the woman whispered, her eyes peering up at Lucius from where she was cuddled in his lap, body still shaking slightly from the rage her father had just left in.

“You’re everything to me, treasure,” Lucius said, repeating a line that had provided comfort to the woman who still seemed to find his protection and love too good to be true.

“Would you mind going to our suite?” she asked shyly, the first time she’d made such a request.

“Would I mind,” Lucius said teasingly to lighten the mood, drawing a squeal from Narcissa as he lifted her into his arms.

Later that night, the pair lay in the bath together. Lucius was affronted when he’d found out his wife had never had the pleasure of enjoying a long soak in the tub. He’d told his father many times that he needed to find a way to get Cygnus removed from the Sacred 28 if only for his plebeian treatment of his daughters. Maybe the other two would’ve ended up in a better place if only for a firm, caring hand of a man in their life. Lucius was relieved he’d been able to intervene for Narcissa before it was too late.

“I remember taking baths with my father growing up,” Lucius offered quietly, stroking Narcissa’s arm. “My mother would come in to wag her finger and tell us that we’d turn into prunes if we stayed in for too long.”

The girl giggled at the image.

“That’s the type of man I want to be for you, Cissy. Caring. Loving. Protective. You should’ve had that love all along.”

The woman shifted on his lap, rose oil-tinted water lapping gently against the tub walls.

Lucius let out a frustrated huff at the rush of warm feelings inside of him, “My good girl, my perfect girl. I’ll protect you until my dying breath. You only deserve to know goodness and love.”

Narcissa turned around in the water and initiated a kiss, pressing her lips sweetly to her husband’s. She gripped his shoulders, pulling him closer as she ran her tongue along his bottom lip.

“When I was little I remember going to Priscilla Parkinson’s house and hearing her brag about the way her daddy took her on dinner dates or kissed her skinned knees. He even took her on trips to the beach where they played in the water with dolphins. I remember crying after she fell asleep. I always wanted that,” Narcissa replied quietly with a desperate, heated look, turning her head so Lucius could reach her neck.

The man took a breath, “I’ll be that for you, always.”

“My daddy,” Narcissa exhaled, letting out a moan as Lucius took the thin skin of her throat between two teeth.

“Yeah, treasure, your daddy’s here,” Lucius replied lowly, his cock harder than he ever thought possible. “Going to take good care of you.”

“My special part, daddy,” Narcissa breathed quietly, face red in the heat of the room. “It hurts.”

“Even in the bathtub I can tell that you’re dripping, little girl. Shush now, daddy will tend to your littlest rosebud.”

The girl’s moans echoed through the tile bathroom, Lucius’ fingers causing a ripple in the water from where they moved in and out of her.

“Tell me what you need,” Lucius asked, slowing his movements down.

“You,” Narcissa squealed, “You.”

Lucius turned Narcissa around before lifting her onto his cock, relishing the long, unladylike moan that he watched come out of her mouth.

“So full, daddy,” Narcissa shared with a small smile, shy now that she was finally eye to eye with her husband. The tension in her shoulders eased at seeing the man reply happily to the name.

“My perfect girl,” Lucius replied, kissing Narcissa simply because words weren’t enough. She made him feel useful and in control, something that he sorely needed while everything else went to shit.

Lucius was panting as he kissed Narcissa’s shoulder, starting a little as her giggle sounded through the room.

“We got all dirty again,” Narcissa said with another giggle.

“We can’t have that,” Lucius replied with a smirk. “Mother will have my head if we look anything less than pristine for supper. I’ll clean you up now, I promise.”

She was his to pamper and his to nurture. She was his to lose.

\--

“You’re leaving?” Narcissa asked as Lucius walked into her conservatory with his cloak already on.

“Unfortunately, darling. Father has some business he’s asked me to attend to,” Lucius said, bending down to kiss his wife from where she was gently tending her flowers.

“Will you be back for supper?” she asked lightly, trying to put on the composed face that she’d seen her own mother wear so often.

“No promises, but I’ll try my best,” Lucius replied.

“Rally’s making coq au vin,” Narcissa said with a mischievous smile. “Hopefully that makes your best even better.”

“You know me too well, treasure. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Narcissa replied, eyes flashing. “Stay safe.”

Lucius felt sick to his stomach as he Flooed into his study that night, immediately barking for his personal elf.

“Master is bleeding,” Dobby exclaimed with wide eyes.

“I’m not bleeding, elf,” Lucius replied, pinching his nose with his fingers. “Is Cissa in our suite?”

“No, Master,” Dobby replied immediately.

“Thank Merlin,” Lucius replied with a sigh. “Bring me to my suite and run me a shower.”

Lucius felt marginally better once he was redressed and heading down the stairs to the ladies parlour.

“Where is Narcissa?” Lucius asked Dobby as the elf ran to keep up.

“In the dining room, Master,” Dobby squeaked.

The man felt frustration surge inside him as he pivoted and walked into the dining room to see his wife asleep with her head resting in her arms.

“Master Lucius, dinner is being served now,” Rally, the head kitchen elf said as he floated dishes to the table.

“You didn’t feed Lady Malfoy?” Lucius asked angrily, causing his wife to wake up with a start. The man knelt beside her, uncaring of what the useless creatures saw.

“You’re home,” Narcissa said with a sleepy smile, nuzzing into Lucius’ neck.

“Darling, why are you still at the table? It’s half past midnight,” Lucius chided softly, causing his wife’s eyes to fill with tears.

“I thought we could eat together. You’ve been gone so often,” Narcissa whispered as tears rolled down her porcelain skin.

“Don’t cry, princess,” Lucius cooed. “Sorry for being stern, daddy was just worried you’d get a crick on your neck.”

“It’s okay,” Narcissa said, sniffing daintily as she tried to stem her tears.

“I’ve missed my little girl,” the man said as he stood up. “I think I know how to rectify that.”

Narcissa giggled as her husband picked her up and sat her on his lap at his normal chair. “A perfect girl on my lap to share dinner with. I bet you’re starving."

Lucius couldn’t help but think of the times he’d seen his own father quell his wife’s tears at this very table and feel like a fraud. This was but a cork in a ship that was going to keep leaking, but Salazar, he’d buy a ship-sized cork to keep his wife from knowing what was going on.

She was his to shield and his to soothe. She was his to lose.

\--

“Master Lucius,” Narcissa’s personal elf said nervously, already waiting in his study the moment he Flooed in.

“What?” the man barked tiredly, filling a glass to the brim with firewhisky.

“Mistress is needing you,” the purple elf yanked its ear as it spoke timidly, never fully comfortable around the dominant, unfeeling man who was the polar opposite of her beloved Mistress Cissy.

The man threw the full glass at the wall, the crystal shattering as he strode out of the room without another word.

Lucius heard his wife’s sobbing before he saw her hugging the toilet bowl in their suite, shivering in her lilac-colored Acromantula silk robe. The man knew his wife was easy to scare, so he made his steps heard before speaking.

“Darling, what’s wrong?” Lucius said tiredly as he got onto his knees beside the woman. He bit back a sound of pain, body still shaking with tremors after time spent under the Cruciatus the night before.

“Feeling ill,” Narcissa got out through tears, moving her head from the toilet to her husband’s lap.

“We’ll get you some potion to settle your stomach,” the man cooed, wanting nothing more than to ask why the fuck the elves hadn’t done that already.

“I can’t,” she said, burrowing her face into her husband’s strong thighs. Any other time, Lucius would’ve been hard as a rock, but now, he only felt panic.

“Treasure, stop the tears and tell daddy what’s going on,” Lucius commanded, adding enough firmness in his voice to have her listen, but not enough to have her feeling admonished.

Narcissa let out a cackle that was scarily reminiscent to her eldest sister. “I’m with child.” 

Lucius’ stomach dropped. “What?”

“I cast the spell, I'm two months along.”

“Oh, treasure,” Lucius said, pulling the woman onto his lap as though she were a precious doll. “I’m so sorry, I’ve been gone for so long. My poor girl.”

“It’s only been three weeks,” Narcissa said with a weak smile. “Your work is important.”

Lucius wished he could’ve used that moment to confess to his wife that his work included killing pregnant Muggles alongside her increasingly mad sister, but knew he’d never burden her with the knowledge of what he had been forced to take part in. The path he’d been dragged down with a silvery promise to provide a better life for him, his wife and their family. The family that was growing by one.

“Still, sweetheart. I want to be there for you,” Lucius said before amending himself. “I will be there for you going forward. Anything you need.”

“For my stomach to settle,” Narcissa muttered, face back in Lucius’ thigh.

“Elf,” the man barked, gentler than normal. Dobby popped in with an eager look.

“Yes, master,” the elf said with his big eyes focused on Lucius.

“Bring Severus over immediately, tell him to bring his bag.”

“Yes sir,” Dobby replied jovially before popping out.

“Da- Lucius, it’s late,” Narcissa said with wide eyes. “What if Sev is sleeping?”

“He’ll be fine, darling. He’d do anything for you, you know that,” Lucius replied with a confident smile. The boy had blossomed under Narcissa’s gentle prodding during his first year, the girl in turn introducing him to Lucius. The older boy was uncertain about the greasy-haired half-blood, but was never one who could say no to the little blonde angel who was now his wife. 

His father often told him that Severus was one of the best investments the family had ever made, having paid for him to receive an accelerated mastery after his seventh year. The man had become the Malfoys sole potions maker over the past year, and Abraxas was always bragging about how he’d seen the boy’s potential and scooped him up before anyone else could. Lucius and Narcissa were smart enough to adopt his version of the story.

“I would hope you have good reason to wake me up,” Severus said drolly as he walked into the bathroom, black leather bag clinking with the glass vials inside.

“I’m sorry, Severus,” Narcissa said quietly as she sat up, eyes filling with tears once more.

The man’s pale face got even paler, his normally stoic expression tinged with regret.

“Severus will be just fine,” Lucius replied with a dark look at the man. “Now, if you could tide the dramatics, we’re in need of your assistance.”

“Of course,” the man replied curtly, knowing his friend was on the edge.

“Narcissa is with child,” Lucius replied with a small smile, stroking his wife’s cheek.

“Cissa, congratulations,” Snape said with a rare smile.

“Thank you,” Narcissa said with a shy smile of her own. Lucius could tell that his wife hadn’t processed her current situation yet, clearly too overcome by her sickness and loneliness to have reached the point of joy over the child they’d longed for.

“How can I be of assistance?” the man asked.

Lucius nudged the woman, hoping she’d speak.

“I can’t keep anything down,” Narcissa replied, the purple bags under her eyes belying the struggles she’s been going through. “Soup, salad, roast chicken… it all comes up.”

“What potions have you been taking?” Severus asked.

“None,” the woman replied somewhat meekly. “I didn’t want to imbibe anything without Lucius here.”

The blond man knew he’d spend the night awake, soaking in his guilt.

“Understandable,” Snape replied, though he actually believed it was anything but. “We’ll start you on prenatal, nausea and stomach strengthening potions and see how you’re doing in a few days. Vomiting and food aversion are par for the course for a first pregnancy, especially in the first trimester. How far along are you?”

“Two months, I cast the spell myself.”

“Would you mind if I cast the spell and checked some diagnostics?”

Narcissa looked to her husband in deference.

“Of course,” Lucius replied, taking charge. This was a space he could thrive in, emotions be damned. “We’ll make an appointment with Healer Greengrass for the morning.”

“Very good,” Severus said before casting some spells and nodding to himself. “The baby is healthy, though your blood sugar is a little lower than I’d like. I’d suggest asking the healer for a meal plan.”

“Absolutely,” Lucius replied, smiling softly at his wife’s kitten-like yawn. “Severus, if you’ll wait here a moment while we get settled in bed.”

The half-blood averted his gaze from the barely dressed woman as he stepped fully into the bathroom, waiting patiently for Lucius to beckon him into the bedroom. The blond was sitting in a chair next to Narcissa’s side of the bed, fussing with the pillows in order to make her giggle. He couldn’t help the way his chest puffed up when the heavenly sound came out of her mouth.

“Mind the nausea potion, Cissa. I’ve been told it feels a bit like sparks going off in your mouth,” Severus said with a wry smile.

“Does it matter what order they’re taken in?” Lucius asked, already taking mental notes on his wife’s care.

Snape shook his head, “No. The three are only to be taken once daily before bed, but other than that there are no restrictions.”

“Thank you,” Narcissa said with a weak smile after taking the three potions. “We’re grateful to have you as a friend, Sev.”

“Likewise. Keep in touch,” Severus said before whipping around and taking his leave.

“What else do you need, darling?” Lucius asked as he spelled the door shut, trusting that the man didn’t need an escort out.

“Teeth cleaning, please,” the woman said with a playful smile. “Much better.”

“That was almost too easy,” Lucius replied, kissing his wife’s forehead.

“I’ll try and think up some difficult requests after I sleep, daddy,” Narcissa said as she snuggled into the cloud soft bed.

Lucius sucked in a breath, “Speaking of… will I be the daddy of two soon?”

Narcissa let out a snort that Lucius had never heard, “Never. I’m not sharing my daddy. Our son will call you father.”

The man smiled to himself. That settled that.

She was his to fuss over and his to shelter from the harsh realities of their world. She was his to lose.

\--

Lucius was close to joining his wife in her tears, but steeled himself and tried to forget the horror show that was now his life.

“I’ll look better once he’s born, I promise,” the woman, his little girl, sobbed.

“Treasure,” Lucius replied patiently. “You’re still the most perfect woman I’ve ever seen, a little bump doesn’t change that.”

“You’re always gone, what am I to think?” the woman replied, tears continuing to fall. “I read the Prophet, Luc… the world is unpredictable, and I can’t help but worry that you’ll be the next one dead every time you’re gone.”

Lucius swallowed, not wanting to tell his wife that he was part of the reason the world had gone to shit.

“Never, darling. I’ll never leave you on your own.”

“I know that you wouldn’t if you had the choice,” Narcissa replied with a sniff. “I’m just scared. Regulus is already gone, and I don't know who's next. Please don’t lie to me… are you out there fighting?”

“Don’t be scared,” the man soothed, ignoring his wife’s accusation. “Daddy’s here, he’ll protect you.”

“I know,” the woman replied, sinking into her husband’s embrace. “I love you. I am torn up inside. One minute I need to know what’s going on and the next I don’t want to know what you’re doing… I just want you to be safe. I want our family to be safe.”

“I’ll do anything necessary to protect our family, you know that,” Lucius replied, tilting his wife’s chin up to make eye contact.

“Thank you,” Narcissa said quietly. “Just… don’t get hurt. I couldn’t live with myself if you weren’t here. We need you.”

“Don’t worry about me, treasure. I’ll be just fine.”

She was his to lie to, his to keep safe. She was his to lose.

\--

Lucius tore his hand through his long hair yet again, stomach turning as he imagined his wife’s reaction to the Aurors that’d surely shown up at the manor.

Thankfully, it didn’t take long for his father to show up to the Ministry, fully dressed despite it being the middle of the night.

“Sir, we aren’t allowing visitors for those in custody,” the low-level Auror who was guarding the cells said, a slight tremor in his voice.

“That’s interesting, as your department hasn't given sufficient reason for my son to even be in custody,” Abraxas replied, voice ice cold. 

“Sir, um, Lord… you’ll have to leave now. I don’t want to have to bring my supervisor down to escort you out.”

“An Auror needing their supervisor to do their dirty work? My, they’re hiring anyone these days,” Abraxas scoffed before strolling past the man to the cell Lucius was being held in.

“Father,” Lucius said with a polite nod as though they were having tea, not separated by metal bars in the bowels of the Ministry of Magic.

“Son, your wife and son are with your mother. Fawley is drawing up papers as we speak to get you out of here.”

“Thank you,” Lucius replied, knowing that unsavory ears were all over the place. He finally felt his stomach settling now that he knew his wife was in France with his own mother.

It took over a day later for Lucius to be released and given a date in front of the Wizengamot for a week later. The blond knew he’d be fine, the Imperius Curse being what it was, but worried that his wife might not be.

The moment he walked into their room at his father’s manor his heart stopped, the sight of his treasure sobbing in bed with greasy, lanky hair more than he could bear. That moment helped explain away why Abraxas had moved his beloved wife to France. Lucius could only ponder why his father didn’t do the same for him.

“Cissy, darling. I’m here,” Lucius said quietly as he walked into the room, brushing his own greasy hair away from his face as he climbed onto the bed.

“Daddy,” the woman sobbed, her reply letting Lucius know enough about his girl’s mental state.

“That’s right, I’m here,” the man cooed, holding the slightly stale-smelling woman close to him.

“I was so scared,” she bawled, breathing in his scent like it was air. “We were sleeping, but five Aurors burst in through the Floo and tore the manor apart. They wouldn’t even let me see Draco until father showed up. What happened?”

“Th- Voldemort is dead,” Lucius said gravely, unable to come to terms with the fact that he may be free. “They thought I was one of his minions.”

Narcissa gasped, looking up with red eyes. “Lucius… What have you done?”

Lucius shook his head, “I’ve done nothing that I’ve been accused of, Narcissa. Father and Lord Fawley were able to secure my release, but I have to testify in front of the Wizengamot next week for Salazar knows what reason. It’s a sham.”

The woman’s eyes filled with tears, “They’re trying to take you away from us. Draco and I need you. Whatever you have to do… even lie. Do it, Lucius.”

“Everything will be just fine,” Lucius promised, more weakly than he would’ve liked. “Now, daddy seems to think a certain little girl of his needs a bath.”

His wife, his little girl, was his to soothe and his to shield with false promises and premises. His to lose.

\--

Draco was the spitting image of a young Lucius with the personality to match.

Narcissa had confided in her husband early in her pregnancy that she was terrified of ending up like her own parents, both unfeeling and loathing in the same measure.

Lucius, on the other hand, realized that he was just like his own father who’d put his own wife above his son. It seemed the possessive, single-minded love that Malfoy men had for their wives was a trait passed from generation to generation.

“I didn’t know she’d cry, father,” Draco said as soon as he heard the door open, his grey eyes full of regret. They were the only trait he’d inherited from his mother, and Lucius was happy to know he was immune to the boy’s wide-eyed stare, knowing full well that it was much less innocent than Narcissa’s. He was his son, after all.

Lucius simply raised an eyebrow at the boy as he walked into his study, the boy having been waiting for him while he comforted his beloved.

“I didn’t mean to upset mummy, I’m just excited to leave for Hogwarts. You understand, don’t you father?”

The man was almost impressed by his son’s ability to weasel his way out of punishment. Almost.

“I confess that I’m losing my patience with you, son. I’m not one to enjoy having the same conversation over and over again. Tell me- how do you think your poor mother feels when you tell her you’re tired of being at the manor? Do you know that she just asked me what she could do to make you happier here?”

The boy’s shoulders drooped. “I’m sorry, father.”

Lucius cracked his knuckles. “Sorry isn’t good enough, son. And I’m not the one you owe an apology. Hopefully this lesson helps my words sink in.”

The man could only feel slightly guilty for his lack of care over the way his son sobbed over his lap, trousers and pants down and arse bright red.

“Corner for ten minutes and then you’ll apologize to your mother.”

“Yes, father,” Draco said with a sniff before waddling over to the far corner of Lucius’ study, his undone belt clanking against the ground with every step.

Narcissa was tending to the herbs in her conservatory when the pair walked in, having calmed down after her conversation with Lucius.

“Mother, I apologize for hurting your feelings. I love being here with you,” Draco said contritely, standing behind the kneeling woman.

“My sweet boy,” Narcissa cooed as she stood up, hugging her son close to her. The boy felt a renewed rush of guilt at seeing the red tinge of her eyes. “I know you’re excited, mummy is just sad that you’re leaving. I hope daddy wasn’t too hard on you.”

“It’s okay, mummy. Father and I just talked man to man,” Draco replied with a faint echo of his father’s reassuring grin. The boy was always intrigued at the way that Narcissa was the only one to ever call Lucius daddy. To him, Lucius was father. “I’ll write you every day. Maybe you can send me truffles and cake?”

“Every day, dragon,” Narcissa exclaimed, a soft smile lighting up her beautiful face. “Every day.”

Lucius nodded in approval as his son walked out.

“Let’s get you in a hot bath, treasure,” Lucius directed, offering a hand to escort his wife upstairs. “You’re going to hurt your back with all of the gardening you’re doing.”

Narcissa let out a small laugh, “Don’t worry about me, Lucius. My herbs are blooming beautifully and will wilt if I don’t pick them today. I was thinking we could hold a summer feast before Draco leaves.”

“That sounds perfect,” Lucius replied with a smile, receiving one in return.

Without the Dark Lord looming over him, life was good.

She was his to please and his to shield from the darker edges of a young man’s upbringing. She was his to lose.

\--

“Lucius, what happened? Where’s Draco?” Narcissa asked, a hand pressed to her heart and her personal elf standing protectively in front of her at his sudden Apparition into the room. “I thought you wouldn’t be back until morning.”

“Draco’s in his room, darling. Fippy Apparated him home,” the man replied, happy he’d changed out of his regalia in his study before feigning a sudden arrival home. “I’m glad you got out of there while you did. The post-match celebration was a mess, it looked like some drunkards tried to start a fight. We got out of there immediately.”

The woman let out a breath, brushing the head of her elf gently before sending it to grab tea.

“I’m so glad you’re both okay,” Narcissa said softly, pulling her husband into a hug. 

“Me too, darling. Me too,” Lucius replied, the man feeling dread stirring in his chest for one of the first times since Halloween 1981. He wished he could have slept that night, knowing countless sleepless nights were ahead.

“Lucius,” Narcissa gasped after an owl dropped the Prophet off in the morning. “There was an attack… by some of the same wizards that followed that-that man.”

“What?” Lucius asked with a furrowed brow, pointedly not looking at his son. “Let me see that.”

His facade crumbled much faster than he would’ve liked it to.

xx

Lucius returned home to a frantic Narcissa after the third task in the Triwizard Tournament, five elves flitting around the woman with fans and cool compresses as she let out panicked moans. His stomach clenched, wondering how long the woman had been in such a state. All he knew was that he had needed to get Draco out of the school, following in the lead of Nott Sr. and Parkinson.

“Cissy…” Lucius began as he walked into the sitting room.

“Where did you go, Lucius?” the woman asked icily, not moving from her chaise.

The man knew his ruse was up.

“Elf, get a calming draught,” Lucius directed, jolting as he heard his wife’s reply.

“Where did you go?” she screamed, sitting up and looking at him with mascara streaks all over her face.

“Let’s talk somewhere more comfortable, hm?” Lucius replied, deflecting in the best way he knew how.

“Libby, bring some cocoa and chocolate truffles to my room, please,” the woman asked her personal elf with a weak smile. The doting elves let out worried squeaks as the woman stood on shaky feet, yet another reminder of the ways he’d never live up to what his wife deserved him to be, what he thought he could’ve been to her.

“Yes mistress!” the purple elf replied before popping out of the room.

“May I carry you upstairs?” Lucius asked his wife.

“If only because I’m feeling faint,” the woman replied.

He couldn’t help relishing the way her body felt in his arms, knowing that it was likely the last time his wife would feel comfortable being so close to him for a long time. Not that he blamed her, knowing what he’d done and how much he’d lie.

“What do you need?” Lucius questioned simply.

“I don’t know, Lucius. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”

“He’s back.”

Narcissa’s expression was a potent mixture of fear and disgust. 

“How?”

“The Potter boy was transported to the Dark Lord by Portkey. He took part in a ritual to regain his corporeal form… I knew no more than you did, Cissa. When you saw me leave? He called me to him, I had no choice.”

“How do you know?”

The man looked at the woman guiltily before muttering a charm to remove the years long glamour he’d kept on his left forearm. His brand was as black as his rotting soul.

He was surprised to see that his wife didn’t faint and almost wished she had. Anything would be better than the look of horror and disappointment on her face.

“The business trips you and father were always gone on?”

“Missions for the Dark Lord, most of the time,” Lucius replied with a low voice, shame caressing every syllable.

“You could’ve ended up in Azkaban with my sister! You almost left me alone with our newborn son,” Narcissa cried, voice verging on hysterical. “Do you remember when I asked what you were doing? When I asked you to be safe? Did you even think about us?

“You were all I thought about,” Lucius roared, unable to contain his temper. “Do you think I wanted this life? Do you know the horrors I’ve seen, the evils I’ve committed to keep you safe?”

“I don’t,” Narcissa screamed back, taking a breath. “Because you’ve told me nothing! You’ve kept me in the dark for too long.”

Lucius threw the glass of water on his bedside against the wall.

“Of course I haven’t! Because I want you to be able to look me in the eyes without shrinking away from me.”

The door swung open, the pair looking up as their son burst into the room with his wand out. He took one look at the shattered glass and the way that Narcissa was curling into herself while his father stood to his full, intimidating height over her prone form.

“What are you doing to her?” Draco asked, his voice shaking slightly.

“Mummy's fine, sweet pea.” Narcissa said through tears, trying to smile at her son. “What are you doing here?

“Father took me from the school after the final task.. He said it wasn’t safe.. What’s going on in here?”

Lucius squeezed his hands into fists, trying his best to not choke his son. Where the fuck did the boy think he got off questioning his father? 

“Nothing. Get out,” Lucius replied, rage barely contained.

“If you’re sure. I thought I heard screaming,” the boy replied, looking anywhere but at the raging figure of his father.

“My sweet dragon. Daddy’s just dropped a glass, I didn’t realize the sound would carry,” Narcissa replied, Lucius feeling only slightly better after hearing his wife call him that.

“Ah,” Draco said stiffly, taking a deep breath before walking around the bed and kissing his mother’s forehead softly. “Goodnight, mother.”

“I love you,” the woman replied with a wobbly smile that Draco didn’t quite trust. He walked out without speaking a word to his father. Lucius couldn’t find it in himself to care.

Lucius lightly warded the room the moment that Draco left and applied silencing charms. He would set the house on fire if there was another interruption. 

“I’ll be talking to him about that tomorrow,” Lucius muttered to himself.

“You’ll leave him alone,” Narcissa replied, eyes narrowed protectively even through her tears. “He’s a good boy.”

Lucius raised his hands in placation, hoping to lighten the mood. 

“What now, Lucius?”

“The Dark Lord returned tonight. I’m sure I’ll know more by tomorrow, but as for now… we’ll need to attend the Diggory boy’s funeral and look properly aggrieved.”

Narcissa gasped, “Properly aggrieved? Really, Lucius? A boy has died. That could’ve been..”

Lucius cut his wife off, “Stop that thought, treasure. Whatever is to come, I need you to remember one thing. I am serving the Dark Lord to keep our family safe. You will be safe. Draco will be safe. We will be safe. I swear it.”

“I trust you, Lucius. I always have,” Narcissa replied, only the smallest trace of uncertainty in her voice.

“I won’t let you down, Cissa. Everything I do is for you.”

Narcissa was quiet after that and pointedly curled up on the very edge of the bed, as far away from Lucius as possible. The man pulled her on top of himself once she’d been asleep for a long while, unable to bear the feeling of being separated from his wife both physically and emotionally.

Even with her warm weight resting on his chest, he could barely sleep as he recounted the way he’d raised his voice to his wife for the first time in their long history.

She was his to keep safe. She was his to lose.

\--

Narcissa kept it together through the funeral, looking like the properly aggrieved pureblood daughter-in-law under her lace veil. The moment that the elves sent the last guest on their way and only Severus remained, her facade cracked. 

“He did it, Lucius,” the woman said, voice hysterical as she ripped the veil off, pins scattering across the floor. “He killed them.”

“Who?” the man asked calmly.

“That-that monster, he killed them. He killed them because they wanted to leave.”

“It was Dragon Pox, treasure. You know this,” Lucius said soothingly, having come to terms with his father’s death in the two weeks they’d waited before holding the funeral. 

The spring hols allowed them to hold a big to-do, a moment that allowed the Malfoy family to gather and welcome noble families from around their community into their home. It was more of a political affair than a celebration of his parents, if Lucius was to be honest. At any other time in his life he’d feel upset over the lack of recognition his sweet, doting mother received, but he didn’t have the time to spare a thought. He’d wished his parents could’ve held out until the Dark Lord’s reign truly began, whenever that was.

“You know it wasn’t,” Narcissa said back, kicking her heels off into the wall. Draco stared with wide-eyes, clearly aghast at seeing his demure, calm mother in such a state. 

“Do you really believe that? Father and mother left a month ago and now they’re dead. Is that not suspicious to you?”

Lucius shook his head and rolled his shoulders back. He was done with his wife’s crazed ranting. “Elf, get my wife a calming draught and run her a bath.”

Narcissa let out a laugh that sounded uncannily like her sister who Lucius had seen far too much of lately.

“I can’t,” Narcissa said quietly, shoulders slumping like she’d lost her will in a split second. “I can’t. I can’t.”

“Mother,” Draco said calmly. “Can I escort you upstairs?”

The woman looked up as though she just realized he was there, eyes vacant.

“My little dragon,” she said with a dazed smile. “Mummy’s missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too mother. Pansy was pleased with the truffles you sent for her birthday, it was quite thoughtful.”

Narcissa let out a soft sob. “You’re so grown up now, calling me mother. Where did the time go?”

Draco bent down to kiss the small woman’s forehead, wondering when his mother had gotten so frail.

“You’ll always be my mummy, don’t worry,” the boy said, his tone lacking the warmth he was going for. He couldn’t find joy in the presence of his broken mother.

The woman leaned heavily on her son as he wrapped an arm around her waist and walked her out of the ballroom. Both Severus and Lucius felt pits in their stomach at how feeble the normally stoic woman looked next to Draco.

“How long has this been going on?” Severus asked quietly.

“What is _this_?” Lucius asked, looking at his friend coldly as he poured his first drink of the day. Severus stared back in his unfeeling way until the man continued. “How long do you think? Look how it went when mother tried to take up the same wand. I’m staying here to protect her.”

“You’re staying here to protect her, not further pureblood values?” Severus clarified with a raised brow.

“Fuck off, Severus. I’m not having this conversation with you.”

“I can get her out of the country,” Severus said.

“Only I can keep her safe,” Lucius replied. “I’m not sending her anywhere alone.”

“It’s clear you’re unable to think rationally right now, but I will be here if you change your mind. I implore you to change it- a fate far worse than dragon pox lies ahead,” Severus stated ominously before whipping out of the foyer in a whirl of black fabric.

Lucius had never even thought about cursing his son until the moment he walked into his suite and saw the boy with his back against the bedframe and Narcissa dozing with her head on his thigh. His long fingers were woven in her soft hair as he hummed quietly. Lucius wanted to AK the boy who only stared at him as he walked in, not moving an inch.

“She took a sleeping draught while the elves removed her makeup and hairpins,” Draco said, looking straight into his father’s eyes.

“You can go to your room now,” Lucius replied, not acknowledging what the boy said. 

Draco was silent as he stood up and left the room. Lucius was pleased to see the boy respected his authority enough to keep his thoughts to himself. 

He watched his sickly wife sleep knowing that she was his to calm and his to keep in line. Her life was his to lose.

\--

“I’m scared,” Narcissa whispered through tears, curling up on Lucius’ lap in a pale impression of days long past.

“Don’t be scared, treasure. I made the promise long ago, and I intend to keep it. I’ll keep you safe.”

“Something’s coming,” Narcissa said ominously. “I feel it in my bones. You’re going to be taken from me.”

Lucius pressed a soft kiss to his wife’s cheek.

“Daddy would never leave his little girl alone,” the man said in a tone much lighter than he thought himself capable at the moment.

“Then let’s run away, daddy,” Narcissa replied desperately. “We can leave. Remember how I told you about Priscilla Parkinson’s daddy taking her to the beach? We can go swim with dolphins, we can bring Draco with us. No one will know.”

The woman’s lip trembled as she looked up at her husband, grey eyes wide. He felt nothing but pity for the worried mess she’d become- the worry he’d allowed her to feel. He had failed as a husband. He was only glad that his father couldn’t see the failure he’d become.

“I can’t leave, sweetheart,” Lucius replied patiently. “The Dark Lord is counting on me to remain here, and even if I felt in a position to leave… his mark on my arm makes that impossible.”

Narcissa’s voice broke, “Let’s go to Dumbledore. He’ll help us, he’ll help Draco… we can’t stay here.”

Lucius sighed. He was unable to entertain this argument once more. “Trust me, Narcissa. All I ask is that you trust me to keep you safe.”

“Okay,” the woman whispered before falling silent. That night she’d learned that it was less painful to keep her thoughts to herself than to be patronized by the man she loved.

She was his to hold through nightmares of a monster with blood red eyes. She was his to lose.

\--

Lucius would never forget the day he was freed from Azkaban. There was no glorious homecoming, there was only a slight uplifting of his cold, deadened soul at the thought of seeing his wife again. 

The days spent huddling against a cold, stone wall to hide from the unforgiving inhalation of dementors blurred together, and he couldn’t have been more bewildered at the sudden appearance of his dearest friend. Of course, he’d seen him many times before in his fitful sleep. The best appearances were the ones where he told Lucius he was sick of his cowardice and took Narcissa away himself against the blond man’s wishes. 

Lucius loved dreaming of the way his wife looked while basking in her newfound freedom, sunkissed and dressed in one of those skimpy swimsuits Muggles wore. She was happy and she was safe. She was happy without him and safe without him. For some reason, that concept didn’t hurt Lucius how it once did. His pride wasn’t important when it came to his wife living another day.

Real-life Severus’ actions were much less exciting than they’d been in Lucius’ Azkaban-induced stupor.

“Let’s go,” the man said after pulling his friend in for a quick embrace. That moment only put Lucius into more of a confusion on the veracity of all that was occurring — would the Severus he knew hug him while breaking him out of prison?

“Sure,” Lucius said with a nod, following slowly behind the man. Whoever this was, wherever he was, he hoped his death would be quick. He hoped Narcissa was long gone.

“You are not dreaming, Lucius,” the man replied, as though he knew what the blond was thinking. “I need you to pull yourself together. Cissy is waiting for you.”

“My little girl,” the man replied with a dazed smile. “I’ve missed her.”

“She’s not the same woman you remember,” Severus warned. If Lucius were to look closely, he’d see the toll the past year had taken on his only friend.

“What happened?” Lucius asked, slightly more coherently.

Severus exhaled loudly as they walked out of the prison together, barely paying attention to the other ragged, sorry excuses for men who were being broken out of the prison.

“Your son was punished for your failure at the Department of Mysteries and he failed miserably. Tonight. The Dark Lord has found your home to be a suitable place to live after visiting with your wife,” Severus offered drolly. Lucius knew the man well enough to know his harsh way of speaking was the only way he felt comfortable sharing this information in public.

“What’d the boy do wrong?” Lucius spat, his mind only on his wife.

“Among the many missteps he’s made since your arrest, tonight was the most egregious. He failed to kill Dumbledore.”

“Merlin,” Lucius muttered, bringing a dirt-covered hand to his face. “What am I walking back into?”

“Not that I need to tell you, but I will regardless. You should’ve sent her away while you had the chance.”

The first thing Lucius noticed when he Apparated into the manor was the Dark Lord wearing his favorite cloak and sitting like a king in his favorite leather chair. The man noted idly that the piece of furniture had been moved from his private study to the manor’s main ballroom.

“Welcome back, brothers,” the Dark Lord said as the group of emaciated, dirt-covered former prisoners walked into the ballroom. Bellatrix started to applaud with only Rabastan Lestrange joining in, his Azkaban uniform hanging off his stick-thin form. 

Lucius caught Narcissa’s eyes from where she and Draco stood at the opposite edge of the large room, the furthest point possible from the center table where the bane of their existence sat. The blond tried to make his way over to his beloved treasure, but was stopped by the reptilian rasp of their leader.

“What a joy it is to be together once more, my friends,” Voldemort said. “I’m sure I might even feel proud to look at your faces once you’ve showered. I’d also like to extend a thank you to the Malfoys for allowing all of us to stay here.”

The man looked at Lucius with a smirk and received a short nod in reply. Most days Lucius didn’t even want his son living in his manor- he had a feeling that the days ahead would leave him wishing to be living with dementors again.

Bellatrix let out a cackle that had most of the room flinching. “Oh how the mighty Malfoys have fallen.”

“Quite right, Bella,” Voldemort replied. “Tonight, I bring you all together to share wonderful news— Albus Dumbledore is dead.”

Lucius could barely feel his hands as he clapped.

“Yet, the one I set out to complete the task failed. Do we accept failure?”

“No, my Lord,” Bellatrix replied to the rhetorical question, laying sideways on the chair with her black curls resting on the ground as she kicked her feet.

“Lucius, I hoped your homecoming would be something to celebrate.. but I confess myself disappointed. Let’s get this out of the way so that we can enjoy the evening. Some of us, at least. Draco, Narcissa… come.”

The man felt more dread watching his son escort his trembling wife towards him. There was no happy reunion with his treasure— only meeting the fate that he’d secured for his family when he followed his father into the service of a mad man.

Lucius closed his eyes, wishing his son had the foresight to put Narcissa in between them. He needed to feel his wife’s warm, soft skin on his own.

Only a lifetime of learning to never show emotion kept the man from flinching and opening his eyes. 

“Crucio.”

He opened his eyes to see Draco writhing soundlessly on the ground. He’d taught the boy well. It took thirty seconds for him to start screaming. Once Draco’s screaming stopped, Lucius closed his eyes once more. 

Rodolphus Lestrange told his dorm mates in first year that your eyes would pop out of your head if you left them open while being Crucioed. Lucius didn’t know if it was true— he always closed his eyes when he knew it was coming.

“Crucio.”

He heard the screaming. His eyes couldn’t open fast enough. He’d never heard Narcissa scream in pain before, not even when she was giving birth. He never wanted to hear it again. Bellatrix’s laugh rang out as her sister soiled herself. Lucius watched the stain grow on her favorite lilac robes. He knew she’d never wear them again. He grit his teeth so he wouldn’t cry out at the blasphemy of shaming a pureblood woman. Didn’t the Dark Lord know the worth and fragility of women like his wife?

“I hope that lesson was meaningful, Lucius. You may go.”

Lucius cradled Narcissa in his arms, ignoring his sister-in-law’s comments about bodily fluids as he walked out of the room. He knew Severus would make sure his son made it upstairs.

The man clenched his jaw at the little whimpers coming from his wife, her body shaking in his arms. He hated how weak he felt, barely able to make it to their room without dropping Narcissa.

Two elves were waiting for the pair.

“Master Lucius, we is happy to see you,” a little elf said, immediately receiving a smack from Narcissa’s purple elf. He wished he could remember its name. It looked like it was the only creature on earth who was as worried about his wife as he was.

“Master, Libby is runned Mistress Cissy a bath.”

“Thank you,” Lucius replied brokenly, not even realizing that he’d used pleasantries with an elf for the first time in his life. 

The man was reverent in undressing his wife, uncaring of the blood and excretions that joined the dirt under his fingernails as he wiped her off before placing her in the bath. Narcissa didn’t deserve the shame that came with what she’d suffered tonight.

“One moment, Cissy, one moment,” Lucius murmured to the woman as he quickly removed his Merlin-forsaken prison garb for what he prayed was the last time. 

The woman opened her eyes once they were in the tub.

“Daddy?” she asked brokenly.

Lucius teared up as he smiled.

“Daddy’s here angel, daddy’s here.”

“Daddy,” she repeated, a small smile on her face despite her tremors. Lucius held her through the night, even when her smile went away and the screaming began.

That night, she was his to hold through her pained convulsions and screams and in the days ahead, she was his to regale with tales of a beach, fruity drinks and skimpy bathing costumes. She was too close to being his to lose.

\--

Lucius was always on edge these days, but being pulled away from their three-way ticket to freedom had him flipping off into the abyss.

“Narcissa,” he exclaimed as she shut the door. “The boy is out there. We hand him over and we’re free. The Dark Lord will give us whatever we want for him.”

“We can’t give them over,” Narcissa said with fear-filled eyes. Her body was wracked with shakes that Lucius knew to be a mixture of fear and repeated exposure to the Cruciatus Curse. Some days he didn’t know how the woman was still standing after years spent as the Malfoy’s whipping boy.

“Why not?” the man asked incredulously.

“We can’t… the girl, the girl is Draco’s.”

“You’re not making any sense, Narcissa. You’re wasting time. You almost got yourself killed by befriending the Lovegood girl, you’ve gone too far.” It was only Lucius’ deep-seated love for his wife that kept him from shaking her gaunt form like a misbehaving crup.

“Draco’s in a relationship with the Granger girl, Lucius,” Narcissa spat out frantically, ignoring the man’s jibe over her bringing food and warm clothes to the prisoners residing in their dungeons. “They’ve been together for two years.”

“What the fuck,” Lucius said with a hysterical laugh, slapping a hand against his forehead. “You’ve lost it.”

“You must save the girl,” Narcissa pleaded before walking out of the room, knowing her husband would follow.

Lucius squeezed his wife’s hand to the point of hearing the crack of a frail bone in hopes that she wouldn’t cry out. He saw her decorum vanish the instant that Voldemort started killing their house-elves indiscriminately, leaving innocent bodies all over the floor. 

He knew what she’d ask the moment they were alone again, but he didn’t have an answer. The monster vanished the bodies too fast to leave room to Crucio those who’d failed to keep Potter from escaping. 

Lucius didn’t know if her beloved purple elf was among the dead, though he assumed it was. Nothing good was meant to last in their world, it seemed. 

The man couldn’t find it in himself to care when Draco followed him and Narcissa upstairs blankly, scourgifying himself before climbing into bed. The Malfoy men bracketed Narcissa, the woman crying as the shattering of 59 elf bonds took its toll on her body and mind.

“We’ll be okay, mother,” Draco replied quietly. “The light will win, it always does eventually.”

“Please,” Narcissa whispered quietly. “I can’t do this.”

“They’ll save us, mother. Like you saved them,” Draco whispered fiercely, planting a kiss on the woman’s forehead. “You’re so brave, mummy… so brave.”

The woman smiled weakly, eyes blurred as she snuggled into her son’s side. “The sorting hat wanted to put me in Gryffindor, you know… It said something about being brave enough to live the life that was meant for me, not the one that was chosen for me. Maybe I am a bit brave.”

Tears filled Draco’s eyes, “You are. We’d be nowhere without your courage tonight. You saved us all.”

The woman only lifted the corner of her lips before closing her eyes again.

Draco and Narcissa both fell asleep to Lucius’ tale of a girl and a boy on the beach, reading by the water and playing in the waves as friendly dolphins swam by.

His wife was his to drag to the finish line of this Merlin forsaken war and his to keep alive. She was his to lose.

\--

Lucius’ stomach sank when he caught eyes with his wife in the Forbidden Forest, knowing he’d left the woman behind at the Manor with explicit orders to stay home.

“Always the gentleman, Lucius, thinking women don’t want to fight,” Bellatrix said with a fake pout. “Well, I didn’t want my little Cissy to miss out on the fun, so I brought her here myself.”

“Quiet,” Rookwood spat, eyes trained on something in the distance. Lucius heard the crunch of leaves and felt his heart drop. He saw Harry Potter walk up with a resigned look on his face and felt dread settle in his stomach. It was over with two words and a burst of green light.

“Narcissa, make sure the boy is dead,” Voldemort said weakly as he pushed himself off the forest floor, shaking off Bellatrix easily.

The woman stifled a sob as she dragged herself over to an unmoving Harry Potter. Lucius couldn’t breathe.

“Dead,” the woman said as she stood up, joyous screams following her proclamation.

The march back to Hogwarts was a blur, Lucius’ only grasp on the situation the very real weight of Narcissa’s hand in his own. She was silent until she wasn’t.

“Draco,” she cried in relief, eyes trained on her son who was standing closely to a bruise-covered Hermione Granger.

The move didn’t go unnoticed by the Dark Lord or Bellatrix.

“Draco,” Voldemort said, voice echoing through the shambles of the once regal Hogwarts courtyard. “Come now.”

The boy looked at his mother who shook her head ever so slightly and gave him a watery smile.

He watched his mother’s lips move over three words. _Harry is alive._

“No,” Draco said with an edge of defiance in his voice. “I won’t.”

“I find myself growing tired of the Malfoy dramatics,” the snakelike said irately, knowing it was time to put on a show of strength for his followers and his foes. “Thankfully, this world is mine now. Bella, if you’ll join me.”

Lucius closed his eyes. It was him or his boy. He couldn’t choose which he’d hate more.

“Crucio!” the duo called out simultaneously. Lucius could see the vibrance of the red curse from behind his eyelids. He heard the scream. He opened his eyes and looked down.

His wife’s pain was only made worse by the jagged fractures of rocks beneath her as she flopped around like a fish on a hook. Her pure blonde hair that caught his eye at age seven turned red with blood and grey with dirt. She was still the only innocent, perfect thing in his life. He never looked to see who was ordered to hold him back. All he could do was watch his wife’s body contort and her mind break. The curse broke.

“Now, Draco,” Voldemort said, his voice just as angry and impatient as Bellatrix’s was that night on the Astronomy Tower. 

He caught his mother’s eye, the woman bleeding on the ground while the world watched in silence.

“It’s okay,” she whispered through broken pants, painstakingly smiling with blood-covered teeth before dropping her head once more. Lucius let out a sob at the clunk it made against a piece of sharp stone. Again, the boy refused to be cowed. 

Lucius closed his eyes, unable to bear the sight of his perfect wife on the ground headed for a most painful and humiliating death. 

Unable to stomach seeing his own brethren he’d killed and bled alongside watching her as though she were a roach under their boot instead of the woman who homed and fed them for two years. 

Unable to stomach the so-called light’s indifference, knowing that they thought Narcissa was getting what she deserved. Knowing they were glad to have time taken up before they were tortured and killed one by one.

He wished he were in her place.

“Crucio!”

He kept his eyes closed. He wished Narcissa would just die so her screams would stop echoing in his ears.

It took Harry Potter thirty more seconds to make a grandiose re-entry into the land of the living. It was thirty seconds too late.

The Lovegood girl ran out of the castle with a snake head in hand, the Longbottom boy trailing her with a bloody sword and bellowing a victorious cry before Potter jumped from the half-giant’s arms.

“It’s just you and me, Tom,” the Potter boy said, receiving a frustrated scream in return. 

“Avada Kedavra!”

“Expelliarmus!”

Years of bondage and suffering ended with the least thrilling duel Lucius had ever seen. It was too late.

Lucius only stopped struggling in Kingsley Shacklebolt’s custody when he saw Draco hunched over Narcissa, the Granger girl pouring potions down her throat as fast as she could pull them from a dirty beaded bag. He tried not to grimace at the sight of Andromeda sobbing over his wife's seizing body. His treasure was alive.

The man walked into his trial knowing that his fate was sealed. He only spent a moment wondering if the anticipation of the dementor gliding towards him or the actual sucking of his soul would be worse. He’d find out soon enough.

“I call the trial of Lucius Abraxas Malfoy to order,” Kingsley Shacklebolt said, voice booming over the full audience. Lucius looked ahead into nothingness, unmoved by the slurs tossed at him as he claimed himself not guilty.

“I call up our first witness, Hermione Granger-Malfoy,” the man said. Furious whispers resounded through the crowd, but Lucius could do little more than curl his lip. The boy wasn’t entirely useless if he’d married the girl quickly. It ensured that the Malfoy line would continue- no one would lock up the golden girl’s husband, no matter how contentious he found the match.

“Today, I cannot speak on the crimes of Lucius Malfoy, but his enduring love for Lady Narcissa Malfoy,” the girl said, swallowing nervously. Lucius had to admit that the girl looked the part- clearly she’d been fitted for dress robes since the battle ended three weeks prior. “My husband has shared many memories over the years. Truthfully, Draco has never painted Lucius as a caring father.. Only a loving husband. He would do anything to protect his wife and keep her happy. Including letting Harry, Ron and I escape when we were brought to Malfoy Manor for questioning.”

“How are you certain that Lord Malfoy authorized your release?” Shacklebolt asked.

“Lady Malfoy packed us a bag of food before sending us on our way. Draco informed his mother of our relationship during our fifth year, and she’d never said a word to Mr. Malfoy before that night. As she was handing over the sack, she told me she’d begged her husband to cause a distraction and let us walk free. She told me we had to win.”

“As touching as these last-minute quaffle tosses may be, how does this single act negate a lifetime of crime and corruption?”

“Kingsley,” the girl started, a few gasps sounded at her audacity to call the minister by his first name. Lucius didn’t move. “I told you that I didn’t come to cover for Lord Malfoy. I’m here for his wife, the woman that we all watched get tortured with gaping mouths like we were third years getting a look at hippogriffs on the first day of Care of Magical Creatures.”

Affronted sounds rung out at the girl’s accusations. Many had the decency to look down in shame. Kingsley silenced them. Lucius didn’t move.

“I’m here for the woman who was asked by Voldemort to confirm that Harry Potter was dead and lied. I’m here for the woman who gave up her life for her son and allowed him to show his true allegiance in the eyes of both sides knowing that meant certain death for her. I’m here for the woman whose torture received no outcries from the supposed light and whose time under the Cruciatus Curse allowed Luna and Neville to kill the snake. I’m here for the woman who's been holed up in the Janus Thickey Ward for three weeks screaming for her husband after being tortured to the brink of insanity. The woman who risked her life to save ours. If not for Narcissa Malfoy, we wouldn’t be here today. Let him go, banish him, take his wand away. What you do doesn’t matter. Just let him provide care for the woman who saved us all.”

Draco forced Lucius to take a shower before going to St. Mungo’s, the man luxuriating in the feeling of hot water and his own high-end soap after weeks without bathing. He was surprised to see a legion of foreign wizards doing construction on their manor until he wasn’t. His son was allowing them to start fresh after years of homing a madman and his henchmen.

Narcissa was asleep when Lucius finally arrived at St. Mungo’s with his son and the girl. He was surprised to see Luna Lovegood at her side, stroking her hair and fussing with the fuzzy pink blanket that was pulled up over her.

“Hello, Mr. Malfoy,” the girl said with a serene smile. “It’s good to see you here. Cissy is going to be quite happy.”

Lucius had many questions after the girl spoke, something he’d come to expect after growing up with the girl’s mother. He nodded before averting his eyes.

The quiet chatter the trio of teenagers had struck up vanished at the sound of whimpering.

Lucius let out a dry sob when he met eyes with his wife. He smiled when her grey orbs immediately lit up.

“Daddy!” she exclaimed, wiggling around in the bed like a happy toddler.

“Treasure, my Cissa,” Lucius replied brokenly, cautiously standing up and kneeling at the edge of the bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Daddy,” the girl repeated with a happy sigh. “Daddy.” 

“Father… this is why I wanted to talk before we visited,” Draco started solemnly. “The healers are unsure of what happened. She’s perfectly stable and lucid, it’s just as though she’s… like she’s a child.”

The Lovegood girl piped up, “Her brain’s keeping her in the space that makes her happiest. Isn’t that wonderful?”

“Excuse me?” Draco asked, clearly hearing this for the first time.

The girl smiled patiently as though he were an idiot. “She’s with her daddy and completely at peace,” the girl said with a hand gesturing towards Lucius. “Isn’t that lovely?”

Hermione had the decency to blush. Lucius was too busy pressing kisses to his wife’s silky blonde hair to feel guilt. He tried to banish the image of blood and dirt soaking her scalp to a place of no return.

“She’s my mother, not a child, Lovegood,” Draco spat back, keeping his voice down as he glanced over at the woman.

“Think what you’d like,” Luna said with a shrug. “We’ve both heard her calling for her daddy, and I see a contented daddy and little girl right now.”

“That would explain why he was always daddy to her and father to me,” Draco mused quietly, receiving a pinch in reprimand from his own wife.

“Where do we go from here?” Lucius asked quietly, looking to the teens for answers. “How do we fix her?”

Draco cleared his throat at Hermione’s prodding, face slightly pink. 

“We -ouch, Hermione- I purchased an elf. Luna thought to bond it to mother when she first woke up. We, er, we didn’t know what would happen and knew she needed help once she leaves the hospital.”

“Smart thinking, son,” Lucius said absently, still hovering over his sleepily blinking wife.

“I sent it to mother’s favorite house today after the verdict was decided,” the boy said with a weak smile. “I remember.. I remember the last night we were together. The story you told. I figured it’s where she’d want to be.”

Lucius swallowed down his tears. “Quite right, son. Has she been like this the entire time?”

Hermione nodded, “Yes, sir. We took her here immediately after the battle and she’s been in this state since she woke up. I’m not quite sure why… the Longbottoms endured the same and they’re in a vegetative state. Mrs. Malfoy, though? She’s coherent, just… different.”

Luna looked sympathetic. “Some decisions have unthinkable consequences. All that can be done now is move forward and hope that the days ahead are better than the days behind us.”

Draco coughed slightly, “I was thinking we could Portkey to the house once we’ve gotten the go-ahead from mother’s healers. Hermione’s interviewing mediwitches later this week to do check-ins every other day.”

“Thank you,” Lucius said, sparing a glance for the girl. He found it increasingly hard to look away from his wife. His poor wife.

“Good afternoon, little lady!” a plump, elderly healer sang as she walked in, voice soft as she smiled at the bedridden woman.

“Daddy!” the woman said, pointing towards Lucius.

The new arrival let out a dramatic gasp. “Oh my! Look who’s here. Is that your daddy?”

“Daddy!”

Lucius heart beat a little quicker in uncertainty and a bit of embarrassment at the spectacle.

“I’m so happy he’s here, sweetheart. My eardrums are as well,” she said, giggling lightly with Luna as though they were telling some inside joke no one else understood. It was another reminder that Lucius had been absent when Narcissa needed him most— it injured his pride more than he would like to admit. Lucius went to reach for his wand before remembering that he’d only gotten it back on threat of being AKed on the spot if he were caught using his wand for anything but necessary tasks.

“When is Mrs. Malfoy able to leave, Dorinda?” Luna asked.

“Well, Merlin! We never want our little miss Cissa to leave, but I’m sure we’ll make do with occasional visits. I take it her daddy will be caring for her?”

“Yes,” Lucius replied with a slight blush. He’d never felt more uncomfortable. “Yes I will. I’d like to speak in private.”

The healer’s demeanor was a lot less kind when it was only Lucius in the room with her.

“How may I help you?” the woman asked, face stone cold.

“Why aren’t you fixing my wife? What have you done to her?”

“I believe the question is, what have _you_ done to her?” the healer replied. “She was tortured repeatedly and seemingly unhealed. It’s a testament to her strength that she’s even able to speak or move, Mr. Malfoy. You should count your lucky stars that your wife is alive.”

“Is she always going to be like this?”

The healer leveled Lucius with a dark look. “I say this with as much patience as I can muster for you, Mr. Malfoy. Your wife is happy for the first time in Merlin knows how many years. Maybe it’s time you put her first. She has a long road to recovery ahead of her and seems to seek you out for comfort. You are either part of her healing process or we’ll have you put far away where you can never hurt again. It’s your choice.”

The man clenched his fists, quelling down the urge to tell the woman how everything he’s ever done was for his wife.

“Understood.”

Lucius couldn’t stomach his wife’s shrill screams as they took the Portkey to their home in the Seychelles. She’d urinated in fright when they moved her to get dressed in a soft dress, and Lucius scared her even more when he’d pulled out his wand to clean her. She only stopped whimpering when he used a washcloth instead of his wand. Lucius wanted to fold in on himself at seeing his once-regal wife reduced to such a broken and terrified little girl.

He’d almost bit his son’s head off when he only deigned to share after the incident that the woman was terrified of wands. The healers thought it was likely that a wand was the last thing she remembered seeing. 

He almost cried upon landing on the front porch of their beach-style mansion and couldn't have masked his surprise at his wife's purple elf swinging the door open with a happy squeak for the group.

“Libby!” Narcissa screamed, only the second word that Lucius’d heard her utter since reacquainting himself with his soulmate.

“Little mistress, little mistress!” the elf cooed, big eyes filling with tears. The creature dropped onto the floor where Narcissa had curled up and stroked her hair soothingly.

Hermione teared up at the scene, leaning into her fondly smiling husband’s side. 

Lucius had never been more grateful for his wife’s intelligence. He could only assume the woman had ordered her lifelong companion to leave at the first sign of any danger. He wondered if she’d specifically told the elf to come here, thinking that Lucius’ often-told tale would be their life one day.

The alcohol was traded for fruit juice in sippy cups to combat the constant shakes she suffered from. The sexy swimwear was traded for odd, Muggle bathing costumes decorated with pictures of brightly colored telly-vision characters. Narcissa was enthralled by the big talking box that Hermione bought for the house. 

He’d imagine nights spent curled up in this very bed with his wife. He’d only thought that he’d hear Narcissa moan daddy in pleasure from how he made her feel, not residual fear from the life he’d subjected her to.

"Mother told me that her dream job was serving as Slytherin's Head of House so that she could help kids be more than their parents' expectations," Draco offered as they sat on the mansion's back patio. "She wanted to teach charms."

Lucius smiled softly as he looked at his wife playing near the water with Hermione and Luna, their sand castle growing more extravagant every time he looked upon it.

"She helped your Uncle Severus. You should've seen him before your mother's soft touch."

"I wish people knew her," Draco admitted quietly. "Now she's just whispered about as the tortured woman who gave up everything for her son or the weak pureblood who followed her husband down all the wrong paths. She's better than what anyone will ever know, and now she doesn't get to reap the benefits of the world she helped build."

Narcissa let out a squeal as the tide rolled in and tickled her pink gingham covered torso. Hermione and Luna took her by the hands, guiding her into the water as gently as they would a real child. Lucius swallowed the lump in his throat at the sight.

"Life isn't fair, Draco," Lucius replied. "We'll do our best to bring her happiness here, however that looks."

"I always resented how you put mother first," Draco admitted. "Never once can I remember a moment that you took my side over mother's or checked in on me before her. I didn't understand it until now."

"She's the most important person in my life, that's the way I was raised. That's the way I raised you to treat your wife," Lucius said easily, feeling a ball of guilt in his stomach at the boy's words. Could he have been a better father?

"Now I have to watch the mistakes you made trying to protect mother play out in front of me. She was the only person to ever show me love, until I met Hermione. No one deserves this less than mother."

"I wish I had something better to tell you, son. But life isn't fair. My mistakes will haunt me the rest of my life, and I have to stare them right in the face every time I look at your poor mother."

"I wish it was you sometimes," Draco admitted, voice cracking.

"So do I, son. So do I."

\--

It’d been a rough day, but he was pleased that those were few and far in between. Despite the horrors she'd gone through, his treasure was happy and content most days.

Narcissa had fallen on the ground while trying to make it inside to the loo, a constant battle for his poor wife, and ended up skinning her knee and wetting herself. It was nothing that couldn’t be easily fixed by himself or their elves, but the girl wasn’t having it. Nothing he did seemed to make it right. 

Deep down, he felt soothed at his wife’s anger. It was penance for the crimes he’d committed against the one witch who deserved much better than he had to offer. He didn’t even have Severus there to yell at him in her stead. Lucius was grateful that his wife didn’t seem to remember their only trusted friend— it made the hell he was living in slightly easier. No memory was better than one that was only full of darkness and despair.

Lucius only felt fully relaxed that day after he was finally in the feather soft bed he shared with his girl, the sound of waves lapping the shore in his ears. He moved his right leg, accidentally bumping the plastic of Narcissa’s bright pink bandage that covered her left knee. He swallowed a cuss word as the girl woke up with a whimper, her eyes shining in the moonlight. He wondered if that’s what Narcissa felt like tending to Draco as an infant, shooing the elves away and silencing Lucius’ side of the bed every night. Honestly— he just wanted to sleep.

“Hurts, daddy,” she whispered while nudging his leg with her toes. Short phrases were a new phase, encouraged by the small chocolate treats and toys that the elves and healers would present after she used a new word. The baby steps gave Lucius hope for what could be again one day.

Lucius tried not to cry as he pulled back their duvet and bent down to press soft kisses to her bandage covered knee.

“Better, treasure?” he asked with a rough voice, tears sure to fall as soon as the woman was asleep and he was alone. Utterly alone.

“Mhm, love you,” she said in a slurred voice before falling back asleep.

“I love you too,” Lucius said, his mind floating to a once-loved bathtub that had been excavated and remodeled with the rest of the once-proud Malfoy Manor.

_“When I was little I remember going to Priscilla Parkinson’s house and hearing her brag about the way her daddy took her on dinner dates or kissed her skinned knees. He even took her on trips to the beach where they played in the water with dolphins. I remember crying after she fell asleep. I always wanted that moment, the security and love she felt,” Narcissa had said quietly with a desperate, heated look, turning her head so Lucius could reach her neck._

_The man took a breath, “I’ll be that for you, always.”_

She was his to kiss better and his to cobble back together, piece by broken piece. She was his to lose.


End file.
